


Tim's Long Way to Home

by Leydhawk



Series: Home [5]
Category: NCIS, Supernatural
Genre: Barely more than T rating, Dream Sex, Flashback to Stanford, Friendship, Homophobic Thoughts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 13:40:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5336114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leydhawk/pseuds/Leydhawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A companion piece to A Long Way to Home, please read that first. Tim's perspective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tim's Long Way to Home

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like Tim's perspective of their time together in California at ages 18 and 23. (So young! I figure Sam hadn't even finished growing yet, so their heights are the same in this.)

June, 2001

Smiling as he entered his extended stay hotel room, Tim thought about Sam. Their trip to San Francisco had been fun. Walking on the beach together and seeing Sam's delight at watching the sun set over the ocean had been one of the best experiences of Tim's life. The food at sushi bar they'd gone to had been fantastic, and the way the servers had called Sam's oh-so-cool last name had made Tim feel like he was with a movie star. And all Sam's attention was on him, every moment they spent together, those green eyes watched him, studied him, shining with amusement and enjoyment. Even during the class he taught, he felt Sam's attention more than the other students. Tim was so glad to see his friend again. The bond they'd developed when they'd met before was more important to Tim than he ever admitted to anyone. He'd never had such an open, accepting friendship with anyone else.

Yawning, Tim went through his bedtime routine and crawled beneath the sheets. He smiled again, smirking a little thinking of how the handsome waiter at the restaurant had openly flirted with Sam, but Sam's focus had never wavered from Tim. He fell into a contented sleep.

_They walked along the empty Golden Gate Bridge together. No cars or other pedestrians were around but they walked side by side, arms brushing occasionally, watching the seagulls wheel and listening to their cries. Tim looked over at Sam. Part of him still expected to look down at his shorter friend and was always surprised to see his eyes level with Tim's own. Sam had grown and changed so much in the six years since they'd seen one another, but his presence remained a stolid, reassuring one, no matter the form his body took. Tim let his hand bump Sam's, and the smile that lit Sam's face at the touch lightened Tim's heart. In fact, his feet lifted from the bridge and he floated along, bobbing like a balloon on an invisible string attached to Sam._

Tim felt light and happy with Sam the whole five weekdays; even more than he had the first week. On their second Saturday, they returned to San Francisco and Tim suggested they walk the bridge. There was a vague sense of deja vú for Tim, but the crowds of people and the noise and exhaust from the cars kept his dream buried in his subconscious. They talked and enjoyed the experience. That evening, they returned to the sushi place, and the hostess recognized them immediately, calling their server from the week before to see that they had returned. "Winchestaaahh!" The waiter crowed. Tim loved seeing how much people liked and remembered his friend. Sam flushed and stammered a little, but catching Tim's eye and seeing Tim grin, nodding his encouragement, Sam played it up. This time two other servers came by their table to say hello (and fawn on Sam, Tim thought), and their waiter brought the chef out to meet them. Promising to return the following weekend, Tim and Sam left the restaurant late and drove back to the school.

Several nights that week Tim dreamt of being in the city with Sam. In one, Tim dreamed they rode the cable cars, standing amidst faceless strangers. When the car made a rough switch, Tim bumped hard against Sam, and Sam's hand flat against the small of his back steadied and warmed Tim. The younger man always smiled as he supported Tim; in the classroom or when Tim was clumsy, and the smile was always kind and open, never mocking. In the dream, when they went to exit the car, Tim slipped again, and Sam's hand on his arm slowed his fall as he again lightened to near weightlessness. Tim's eyes met Sam's and he grew breathless and woke with a gasp. The dream was clear in his mind as he rose and went to get in the shower. His morning erection throbbed painfully and he masturbated under the hot spray, feeling as if he were floating. He kept his mind blank until the moment he felt the pulsing of his orgasm; in those few seconds Sam's green eyes and sweet smile flashed through his memory and he groaned aloud. That morning in class he flushed with shame when Sam walked in and greeted him with his normal upbeat "Good morning, Mr McGee." By lunch they were back to their camaraderie and Tim had buried his guilty thoughts of Sam.

But the dreams increased in frequency, and Tim recalled each more clearly than the last. Walking on the beach unashamedly holding hands, on a boat tour (thankfully in Tim's dreams his seasickness was non-existent) with Sam's arm around him, hugging Sam outside the sushi restaurant, kissing Sam in the hall next to the door to the computer lab... The dreams were progressing each night, and Tim switched to cold showers upon waking, trying to will himself away from romantic thoughts of Sam.

After their fourth Saturday night in the city, Tim fell into his bed fully clothed and dropped off to sleep.

_There was a knock on the hotel room door, and Tim went to answer it, greeting Sam warmly and inviting him inside. The door closed and they hugged in greeting. Sam's long arms wrapped around Tim and held him close. When his arms loosened slightly, Tim drew his head back to look into Sam's eyes, and Sam closed the small distance between them, kissing Tim gently. Tim shivered at his body's response and he boldly parted his lips and slid his tongue between Sam's. Sam's arms tightened around him, the big hands moving up and down his back. They stood there kissing for an eternity, then the room heated up and Sam's shirt vanished and Tim found himself kneeling before his friend with his trembling hands unfastening Sam's jeans._

_The dream progressed and as Tim orally satisfied Sam, he stroked his own erection..._

Tim woke shuddering, his hand chafing the crotch of his pants as he curled on his side. He moaned as he ejaculated, his barely waking mind still filled with the feel and taste of Sam in his mouth. He lay still, gasping, and finally groaned miserably when he fully realized what he'd just done. He couldn't even tell himself it was a wet dream, he hadn't finished until he'd woken. Tears filled his eyes and he cried silently. He didn't want to be having these thoughts and dreams. He'd been brought up that such things were disgracefully sinful. Even sex out of wedlock with a woman was far more acceptable than... _this_.

Tim had never been critical of gays or anyone in the LGBT community, but for this he judged himself harshly. Shaving without really looking at himself in the mirror was a skill he'd used before when he was feeling self-critical, and he applied it now to avoid the guilt in his own eyes.

In class Monday morning Tim stared down at his keyboard as the students came into the lab.

"Good morning Mr McGee," Sam said brightly. Tim nodded without looking up. The class went smoothly, Tim keeping a running commentary lecture through the morning session. When they broke for lunch, Sam came back up to the front of the room and waited for everyone else to leave. "Tim? What's up, man?"

Tim frowned and swallowed hard before he stood and raised his eyes to meet Sam's concerned look. "Nothing. I've just, uh, got things on my mind," Tim said, cringing inwardly at how lame it sounded.

Sam's eyes searched Tim's face and Tim cleared his throat and tried to meet the concern from his friend with calm. He forcefully shut the memory of his dream into a box inside his mind and shoved it aside. He recited _pi_ in his mind and his gaze steadied. The clouded look on Sam's face slowly cleared.

"You wanna get lunch?" Sam asked. Tim gave him a tight-lipped smile and nodded.

They ate out in the sunshine on a bench in companionable silence and returned to class when they'd finished, and that evening, they played Tim's favorite video game for a couple of hours. Before Sam left near midnight, he paused, looking serious. Tim swallowed hard.

"Tim, I know we only have two more weeks-well, _less,_ I guess, but I just mean... Let's just have a good time with the time we have, ya know? Let's not worry about after, just..."

Tim nodded. "Yeah. I get it. That sounds like a plan."

"Good. Okay, so I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good-night, Sam."

"'Night."

Tim went to bed and tried hard to focus his mind on anything but Sam. If he had any erotic dreams of Sam the rest of the week, to his relief, Tim didn't remember them.

Having convinced Sam to go to a jazz concert in Golden Gate Park on their last Saturday together, Tim enjoyed an early dinner with him at their sushi bar ( _Winchstaah_!), then led the way into the green haven of the park. The concert was crowded but had great music. During one of the breaks, Tim went to find something to drink. Walking down a short path, he smelled something sour and rotten and he recoiled slightly, turning his head toward the darkness where the scent seemed to originate. Movement came from the shadows and some kind of black smoke shot toward him and he fell hard against a tree as the smoke came at him, attacking, invading. He tried to scream, to call out for help, to yell for Sam, but the oily, rotten taste and smell was like a rancid liquid pouring into him. It penetrated him, searing his throat and lungs, gagging him and smothering.

Recalling it later, Tim only had vague impressions of how he had struggled against the demon that possessed him. He'd withdrawn after an initial, panic-filled battle to observe and regroup. When the demon had kidnapped Sam, he'd bided his time, exerting influence to keep the creature from hurting either of them too badly. The shame he'd felt when the demon revealed his feelings for Sam had caused him to withdraw again, but thankfully, that was when she had recognized Sam as one of her father's special children, infected with his blood and destined to do his bidding later on, and she had left him, vomiting out of his body, leaving him shaken and semi-conscious.

Sam, bloodied and concerned, had been Tim's first awareness after he woke. Sam had hauled him outside and they'd stumbled back to Sam's car together. Sam's story of them being mugged had been thin, but Tim had silently nodded and accepted it, having no desire to admit he knew what had really happened.

The last six days Tim spent in California were uneventful. The class wrapped up, and on Saturday morning, Sam drove Tim to the airport. He parked and walked his friend to the gate and waited with him for Tim's boarding call.

"Sam, I am _really_ gonna miss you," Tim finally said when they'd been sitting silently together for several minutes. It was the closest he could come to confessing what he felt for Sam, and his voice was thick with the feelings unspoken. In Sam's eyes was his concern, his affection, for Tim, and the lump in Tim's throat grew at seeing it.

"Tim, you're an incredible person. I hope you can learn to see that."

Tim nodded mutely. He wanted to touch Sam, to hold his hand and put his arms around him. Tim looked away.

"Flight 319 to Chicago with continuing service to Washington DC is now boarding at gate 16," the intercom blared. Tim's chest tightened and he blinked back tears. He stood and Sam rose beside him.

Sam hugged him, and for a long moment, Tim let himself relax and enjoy the closeness. When Sam's hand patted him firmly on the back, he knew it was his cue to let go, and with a final tightening of his arms around the younger man and a breath sniffed through his nose to fill himself with the smell of Sam, Tim stepped back. They stared at each other for another long moment.

"You're gonna be a great Agent, Tim. Be safe."

"I... Thank you, Sam. _So much_. For-for everything," Tim choked. Sam nodded and cocked his head at the dwindling line of passengers boarding. Tim nodded and tore his gaze away, moving to hand his ticket to the flight attendant. A final glance from the doorway over his shoulder, a wave to match the hand Sam raised in farewell, and they were parted.

Over ten years passed before they saw each other again, but Tim thought of Sam often and wished him well from the deepest part of his heart.

~~~SPNCIS~~~

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this set in a pre- 9/11 time, I had to remember that we used to be able to walk someone to the gate at the airport. I wonder if future fanfic writers will get that detail right if they never experienced it personally.


End file.
